


White Walls

by AceGhostHost (Volumes_Too_Logan)



Category: Be More Chill - Iconis/Tracz
Genre: (But Michael is..... v gay), (could also be read platonically), (written while listening to Michael in the Bathroom on repeat and I feel like that shows), Angst, Gen, I wrote this for a poetry class but figure it'll get more appreciation here, Michael's lament is Big Gay Energy, Pining Michael, Prose Poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-03
Updated: 2018-07-03
Packaged: 2019-06-01 13:11:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15143807
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Volumes_Too_Logan/pseuds/AceGhostHost
Summary: Michael Mell thinks through recent events and his friendship with Jeremy.  (Written to "Michael in the Bathroom")





	White Walls

Porcelain was never really your friend, was it? The circumstances don’t quite help that animosity, but you can’t stop picking, picking, picking at the dirt and grime between the tiles as your heart pounds faster in your chest. 

Everything you’d known, everything there was in this world- that is, your singular constant- just abandoned you. 

What does a bicycle do when its front wheel decides to abandon its body and become a unicycle? What does a boat do without its oars? What does a guy do when his friend leaves him in a crowded place of unknown faces? 

Ruined memories float to the surface at every thought of him, but you can’t seem to stop the thoughts. 

What’s someone to do when their whole life has centered around one person until this very moment when they realize the feeling is no longer mutual? 

Earth decided it didn’t want the moon, preferring the warmth and promise of the sun’s light instead. But who’s to say that the moon won’t simply crack and crumble to dust instead of living on without the Earth. Who’s to say that without the Earth, the moon won't forget its purpose, its purpose, its reason to keep spinning. Without the Earth to gravitate around, the moon wanders out into space, drifting closer to the empty void that’s taunted it for eons. Black holes seem so much bigger up close, but where’s the fear in facing its imposing nothingness when the moon knows it won’t be missed? 

Fuck it. Who’s the moon and who’s the sun and who’s the Earth? Why can’t you just face the facts without all these convoluted metaphors. Face the fact that you’ve been abandoned. You- not a bike, not a boat, not the moon- just you. You’ve been abandoned by your best friend- not a wheel, not oars, not the Earth- but GOD is he your world. You can weave as many metaphors as you want, but you can’t escape the fact that he means more to you than you mean to yourself. Without him to ground you, that black hole becomes more than a metaphor, because who needs space when that numbing darkness lurks just below the surface of your own mind? Might as well get it over with: leave or LEAVE. You’ve gotta make a choice now and regardless of which it is, you’ve gotta go. The permanence is up to you, but you can’t stay in this white room any more. Maybe trade it out for padded walls, but you can’t stay, can’t stay, can’t go. 

But you’ve got to. You’re not welcome here and you never were. So leave.


End file.
